(This is a re-post from July of 2007. I happy to report that twelve years later I remain the same crank.)
What the hell are "Deathly Hallows"? Didn't I catch that in the service?
After nearly forty years of having a radio show, there are many perks I miss now that I no longer have a release for the bubbling cauldron of weirdness that dwells in my melon nearly 24/7. This blog helps with that. However, there is one giant burden that has been lifted from me. I now relish, and I DO mean relish the fact that I am free at last from the chore of feigning any interest in popular culture. God, I hated faking that! It was the bane of my broadcast existence. Many program directors sucked down Maalox and ripped out what little hair they had attempting to impress upon me the importance of "relating" to the audience.
Well, excuse me, I just never cared. As I saw it, my job was to talk dirty and play the hits. The listener's job was to LISTEN. Had I actually liked most of the heavy hits I was shoveling I might have been dangerous, but while the tunes were on the air I was either on the phone, going over the racing form or planning mischief to get into just as soon as my grueling four-hour show was over. It's a curse and I know it. I would sooner spend an afternoon watching oil changes at the Chevron station than read a Harry Potter book or watch a minute of American Idol or ANY reality show.
So here I am not reading Harry Potter and probably not watching any of the TV shows everybody else likes, but that's the way I like it. I did accompany Linda, a former librarian who happens to live with me, (see wife) to Costco yesterday so that together we could fight for a copy of the new Harry Potter. In fact, she's reading it now. Linda is a far more pleasant and agreeable person than I. I'm sure she'll be willing to lend you her copy when she's done.
Me? I'll be at the Chevron station. There are some very cool oil changes coming up and, if I'm lucky, a tractor tire rotation. Screw pop culture!
What the hell are "Deathly Hallows"? Didn't I catch that in the service?
After nearly forty years of having a radio show, there are many perks I miss now that I no longer have a release for the bubbling cauldron of weirdness that dwells in my melon nearly 24/7. This blog helps with that. However, there is one giant burden that has been lifted from me. I now relish, and I DO mean relish the fact that I am free at last from the chore of feigning any interest in popular culture. God, I hated faking that! It was the bane of my broadcast existence. Many program directors sucked down Maalox and ripped out what little hair they had attempting to impress upon me the importance of "relating" to the audience.
Well, excuse me, I just never cared. As I saw it, my job was to talk dirty and play the hits. The listener's job was to LISTEN. Had I actually liked most of the heavy hits I was shoveling I might have been dangerous, but while the tunes were on the air I was either on the phone, going over the racing form or planning mischief to get into just as soon as my grueling four-hour show was over. It's a curse and I know it. I would sooner spend an afternoon watching oil changes at the Chevron station than read a Harry Potter book or watch a minute of American Idol or ANY reality show.
So here I am not reading Harry Potter and probably not watching any of the TV shows everybody else likes, but that's the way I like it. I did accompany Linda, a former librarian who happens to live with me, (see wife) to Costco yesterday so that together we could fight for a copy of the new Harry Potter. In fact, she's reading it now. Linda is a far more pleasant and agreeable person than I. I'm sure she'll be willing to lend you her copy when she's done.
Me? I'll be at the Chevron station. There are some very cool oil changes coming up and, if I'm lucky, a tractor tire rotation. Screw pop culture!
Uncle Ken! Uncle Ken! Always good to hear from you.
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